24 February 2012
51 years old
A month or so ago Craig and I took Ali to a production of The Importance of Being Earnest (by Oscar Wilde), one of my favourite plays. Cast in the role of Lady Bracknell was the wonderful Geoffrey Rush. As he took a bow at the end of the play, Mr Rush lifted up his heavy skirt, can can style to reveal an enormous pair of bloomers. Ali squealed with delight, her hands clapped and clapped and she smiled from ear to ear. She loved it, as we all did.
Yesterday I went to the theatre alone, for an afternoon matinee of a very different play, The Wild Duck (by Henrik Ibsen). The glowing review in the paper said, don’t forget your tissues. If the general populace is advised to do this, I knew I would need an actual handkerchief – the strength and rigor of fabric. And so I did. I am a weeper by nature, taking after my sensitive father (the best dad in the world, as I’ve mentioned before). It is a very moving play about love and betrayal, and family.
It was a glorious Melbourne day yesterday, a happy-to-be-alive day; and as I walked to the theatre from the train station I looked around and observed that everyone around me seemed to feel the same way. A man went past, whistling, and I blinked behind my sunglasses to refocus on him: it was Geoffrey Rush. Later in the day when I told Ali I saw him, she asked, Was he wearing his bloomers?
PS Staring in The Wild Duck is my favourite actor (at the minute) Ewen Leslie – all the cast were good, but he is BRILLIANT and I'm a little bit in love with him.